BITE - a snowbaz fanfiction

3

I haven't shown up at my flat in a month. I called Simon once—he didn't answer. Later he texted me, but I didn't respond.

Look, Baz, I know we're broken up, but I was hoping . . .

I don't know what I was hoping.

It's just, Penny's in America, and it's so . . .

Nevermind.

Sorry, I'm just sorry.

That was what he said.

A week later, he called me.

I answered.

For a while, he was silent on the line.

Basil, I just want to know you're there.

Okay, I said. I'm here.

It broke my heart when I heard him cry, but he hung up before I could say anything.

I roll over and reach across the bed—the bed that's empty.

I groan and sit up weakly, when Mordelia knocks.

"Baz?" she calls out loudly after opening the door without my permission.

"Go away," I croak.

"Breakfast is ready."

"I'm not eating."
She sneers at me (my own work) and storms out, clunking her boots loudly all the way down the stairs.

Anyway.

I haven't been drinking much. I haven't gone hunting . . . enough.

It's hard for me to hunt when I fear I'll bite a human again.

But I get by, I always do.

And when it gets to be too much, I let myself fall back into Snow's eyes. His curls. The array of freckles and moles dotting his back.

I used to trace those with my eyes when I watched him sleep.

Then I traced them with my fingertips when we dated.

Now I trace them in my imagination because I don't have any living view of him—he's gone from my life.

I had become settled with the idea that I would never have him, that all I could do was give up. Then he kissed me, and everything changed. He became mine.

And then when he lost his magic, he lost himself too, didn't he?

He forgot about me.

When I bit him, everything came back for him. His livelihood, his magic, everything. I thought I was back too. I thought—

Merlin, is it not logical to think that if I held him all night, if he curled up beside me and slept soundly, that maybe something has come back?

That maybe he could have been mine again?

Well.

Not for him, I suppose.

Now I'm here, here without Snow, and all I see of my future is the future that I saw of myself when I was attending Watford.

Break the hearts of all the boys that look like Snow.

Because none of them will be him.

None of them will ever be Simon Snow, my Chosen One.

They'll never have my heart like he does.

The sun is setting.

I'm sitting up against the frame of my bed, staring at the wall, when I hear a light knock at the door.

"Basilton?" I hear my stepmother ask for me quietly. "Can I come in?"

I don't answer.

She comes inside anyway.

"You need to eat," she says.

I shake my head.

"Basilton."

"No," I say hoarsely.

She takes a step forward towards me and places her hand on my shoulder. I shrug her away.

"You're too pale," she whispers.

I know.

She puts the back of her hand on my forehead, and this time, I don't fight. It's useless, honestly.

"Basilton."

"Mother, I'm all right."

She's silent for a moment, then she draws in a breath of air. "Simon?"

I shake my head vigorously and stand up, pacing the room.

"Baz."

"Stop. Please, just stop."

"Baz!" I hear Mordelia call up the stairs. "Your friend—that boy—is here to see you!"

"Oh," Mother whispers behind me.

Oh.